


Science!

by misura



Category: Casanova (UK)
Genre: Accidental Drug Use, Aphrodisiacs, Fade to Black, M/M, Mad Science, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-18 07:41:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21790774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: "Playing the expert alchemist again, are we, sir?" Rocco asked, eying the bubbling liquid with an amount of apprehension that was, frankly, insulting.
Relationships: Giacomo Casanova/Rocco
Comments: 7
Kudos: 15
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Science!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KillClaudio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KillClaudio/gifts).



> happy Yuletide, KillClaudio!
> 
> a Casanova/Rocco treat, because there wasn't any fic for these two on the archive yet, which is, frankly, tragic.

"Playing the expert alchemist again, are we, sir?" Rocco asked, eying the bubbling liquid with an amount of apprehension that was, frankly, insulting.

" "We' are doing nothing of the sort," Casanova said, by way of indicating he wouldn't be putting up with any sort of lip right now, or ever, thank you very much. "I, on the other hand, am concocting a very special mixture for a very important person who will no doubt pay me lots of money if I succeed."

"Oh, good." Rocco sat down in a chair that had seen better days. Comfy, though, and hardly anyone came here, anyway, so Casanova hadn't seen any reason to spend money on replacing it. A bit like Rocco in that way, he supposed. "Rent's due again soon, isn't it?"

"I wouldn't know, I have people to deal with that sort of thing," Casanova said.

Rocco gave him a look.

Casanova sighed. He supposed that _had_ been a bit much, at that, and anyway, it wasn't Rocco's fault this damned concoction wasn't changing color the way it was supposed to. "Don't worry, I'm almost certain this one's not going to blow up and cost you your eyebrows again."

"Oh good. That's very reassuring, that is," Rocco said.

Casanova carefully measured three drops of something-or-another. It was blue, anyway. Blue was good.

Rocco watched as he added the drops to the mixture, then said, "You might want to step back a bit, sir. I mean, just in case."

"Don't be silly, it's fine," Casanova said, though he felt a slight glow of affection. Affection of the non-physical kind, it went without saying. Or, all right, hug-level affection, perhaps. An affectionate hug could have been Rocco's, if only he'd asked for one at this very moment.

"Isn't that what you told me last time, sir?" Rocco asked, not looking like he was going to be asking for that hug any time soon. Ah well - his loss, Casanova supposed. He gave great hugs. Everyone said so.

"This time, I mean it," he said. "Blast it, why isn't it changing color? It's supposed to be changing color. It says right here in the book that it's supposed to be changing color."

"This would be the book listing orange peel, strawberry juice and nutmeg as required ingredients, whereas you elected to use - what again, exactly?"

Casanova scoffed. "So I used some substitutes, so what? Is that suddenly against the law now? I mean, nutmeg, really? Where the hell am I supposed to find any nutmeg?"

"I actually think we have some in the kitchen?" Rocco said.

"Now you tell me." Casanova felt affectionate hugs were well and truly off the table at this point. Angry kissing might be an option, though. True, he was a lover, not a fighter, but he fancied he was most definitely also a fighter for love, so 'angry kissing' felt like it fit right into his role.

Rocco breathed out, possibly sensing Casanova's shifting affections. "Well, at least it doesn't seem to be blowing up. That's good."

"Yeah, but it's still green, isn't it?" Casanova scowled. "But yes, good point. I mean, what's color, anyway? It's a potion, not a jacket. So what if it's green. Doesn't mean it won't work, does it?"

Rocco smiled at him. There was a kind of rustic charm to Rocco's smile, something suggestive of haystacks and getting straw everywhere and kissing someone who smelled like fresh cheese. Also of getting chased by people with pitchforks, possibly because a lot of people weren't wildly keen on that whole sodomy thing, which was just silly, in Casanova's expert opinion. "Indeed it doesn't, sir."

Casanova smiled back. He felt like they were having a moment here. A slightly charged moment with the potential for sexual tension - to be resolved as soon as one of them (which was to say: Rocco, because a gentleman never went first) made the first move.

Rocco stopped smiling. "So what's it supposed to do then?"

Casanova decided he felt blocked. Cockblocked, to be precise. He was trying, he really was, but Rocco kept not playing along. "Well, I don't know, do I? Someone's going to have to drink it, first."

Rocco snorted. "Good luck finding someone stupid enough to do that."

Casanova arched an eyebrow. His eyebrow arches were deveastating. Everyone said so.

"Oh, no," Rocco said, raising his hands. "No, no, no. No way."

"Am I or am I not paying you?" Casanova asked, pouring the liquid into a cup and swirling it a bit. He sniffed it, mostly for show. "Smells quite nice."

"You drink it then," Rocco said.

"Don't be silly," Casanova said. "Drink this? For all I know it might be poison!"

Rocco crossed his arms over his chest. "My point exactly."

"It's not poison. I was making a point," Casanova said. "My point being that I'm paying you to do what I want you to do." He considered, then amended that to, "Well, to do what I tell you to do, anyway. I'll grant you that's not quite the same thing."

Rocco did not seem to get the hint. Casanova was willing to admit it had been a bit subtle. Perhaps if he stripped naked and challenged Rocco to a game of sex poker in the middle of the night? He didn't want to come across all pushy and needy and clingy, though.

"I'm not drinking that," Rocco said.

Casanova pretended to take a sip.

Rocco rolled his eyes. "Did you really just pretend to take a sip? Oh, please. How stupid do you think I am?"

"Rocco, I'm shocked. Hurt, even. Would I do that? Try to trick you like that? Where's the trust?"

Rocco scowled.

"I'll double your salary this week," Casanova offered.

Rocco sighed. "Triple it, and we've got a deal."

"That's highway robbery, that is," Casanova said.

"Now there's an idea for your next career," Rocco said, accepting the cup and then emptying it in one go with a grimace. "Probably some good money in it, provided you don't get caught."

"We'll call that plan Z, won't we?" Casanova said.

Half an hour later, Rocco still hadn't dropped dead, which was good. On the other hand, he hadn't ripped off all of his clothes and declared himself passionately in love with Casanova. That was a bit disappointing, but then, you couldn't have everything, Casanova supposed.

"So how are you feeling?" he asked, trying not to sound like the answer he wanted to hear was 'desperate for a good fuck, preferably to be provided by the handsome gentleman wearing the red jacket'.

"All right," Rocco said. "A bit - " he hesitated. "A bit horny, maybe? Is that supposed to be one of the effects? Trying to help some old gentleman to, you know?"

"Nah. Just decided to have a bit of fun," Casanova said. "I mean, I've still got all this stuff." He gestured towards the collection of books and bottles and boilerplates. "Might as well use it, what?"

"Oh, thanks. That's very reassuring, that is," Rocco said.

Casanova sighed. "Look, for what it's worth, I'm feeling a bit horny, too. So."

"So?" Rocco asked. "Are you ever not? Who is it this week?"

"I meant - " Casanova gestured.

"Yes. I got that, thanks," Rocco said. "You're aroused and you think your dick's bigger than mine."

"No!" Casanova wondered how Rocco could have misunderstood such a simple gesture so thoroughly. It wasn't as if he'd been speaking in Latin or French. "I mean, yes! Obviously yes!"

Rocco chuckled in a way that was deeply offensive - or possibly a mask for his deeper, more tender emotions. Casanova decided he liked that explanation a lot better. Good old Rocco, always so shy to admit how much he cared, how much he looked at Casanova and _wanted_.

"It is!" Casanova insisted. "Here, you want me to show you? I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

"I do not - " Rocco licked his lips, a clear sign that he was imagining taking Casanovas (quite large, thank you) cock in his mouth and give it a good suck. "And then what? What's the point?"

Realization struck Casanova like a bolt of lightning. Which he'd actually experienced that one time someone had needed an expert physicist - a lot of fun with electricity had been had by all.

"Rocco!" he said, feeling overwhelmed by a sense of - of something overwhelming. "My dear friend. The point, obviously, is that once we know which one of us has got the bigger one, we can proceed to the part where we can make sweet, sweet love without worrying about such trivialities. Didn't you know? Oh, you must have known."

"I - " Rocco shook his head. "You're crazy, you know that? Did you drink any of that stuff yourself? Or no, wait, let me rephrase that. _How much_ of that stuff did you drink yourself?"

"Well, I had to test the taste, didn't I?" Casanova said reasonably. "So I sipped a bit, now and then."

"Oh, God." Rocco closed his eyes and groaned. "We are so fucked."

"Not yet, we're not," Casanova said. "What do you say we do something about that, eh? Come on now, you and me. It'll be good. You'll enjoy yourself, I'll enjoy myself, and a good time will be had by all."

"I will not - " Rocco started.

Casanova gave him the bedroom eyes. He had great bedroom eyes. Everyone said so.

Rocco swallowed, probably imagining brushing some of the dirt off of his breeches as he got up after he'd - well, all right, so much for _that_ fantasy.

Casanova stared. He hadn't meant to, he didn't think, but now that it was there - and it would be rude to look away, wouldn't it? He might hurt Rocco's feelings, and he very much did not want to hurt Rocco's feelings. He quite liked Rocco's feelings, as well as Rocco's personality, Rocco's friendship.

Rocco's cock didn't look half-bad, either.

"Well? Aren't you going to say anything?" Rocco asked.

Casanova decided this was one of those situations where actions spoke louder than words.

"Oh," Rocco said. "Wow. So that's what all the fuss is about, huh?"

"Not really, no," Casanova said. " _This_ is what all the fuss is about." He kissed Rocco. (He was a great kisser. Everyone said so.)

"I've had better."

"Liar."

Rocco grimaced. "All right then, I've _done_ better."

Casanova grinned. Nothing wrong with a bit of healthy competition, as far as he could see. "Big words. How about a bit of proof, eh?"

"I thought you would never ask."


End file.
